Heaven in Hell
by cjalyssa
Summary: ON HIATUS
1. Prologue: Bitter Truth

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and its characters are not mine. I wish it was mine, though.

**Note:** My first HP fic. So if the story is kinda stupid or if you don't like it, just tell me ne? I'll do my best to revise it. And this chap is short because it's just an overview, but the rest will be long enough. And the entire fic is dedicated to Harry Draco Malfoy. Hope you like this _-wink-_

**Heaven in Hell**

**Prologue:** The Bitter Truth

Hogwarts.

A beautiful city swarming with buildings, factories, restaurants and clubs. Big houses with beautifully trimmed gardens lined the lots. New and shining cars zoomed on the roads, driven by business man or their chauffeur on the way to their beautiful office.

It is a city where people's dreams can come true. Serenity and happiness lies here. And this is a place where people live in harmony, whether rich or poor.

But that's not true. It's all a lie.

Because for Harry, Hogwarts is not a place where dreams come true, rather it crushed his dreams and he have to face the harsh realities in an early age. His serenity and happiness have been stopped to be replaced by bitterness and unsettlement. He wasn't even allowed to laugh without an order. And certainly there is no harmony here.

No, Hogwarts is not a dream world. It is a hell. A living hell…

**-------------------------------------------------- T.B.C. ------------------------------------------------**


	2. Chapter 1: A Slave's Brand

**Chapter 1: A Slave's Brand**

"Potter!"

Harry involuntarily flinches when he heard the angry bellow. It's almost 8 o'clock and he is busy cleaning the remnants of the breakfast. He hurriedly finish wiping the plates which he had just washed, and put them on the plate rack before he quickly runs to the direction of the shout, wiping his wet hands on his old and tattered pants.

The house was pretty big compared to the others. His master is, after all, a prominent man in the city, and was quite rich. The two-storey apartment is composed of 6 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms, a spacious living room, a kitchen and dining room, a cupboard, where he now sleeps, and a library which also serves as a study room.

On the hallway he passed by a mirror, and saw for the first time in weeks his reflection. He paused in his steps and scrutinizes his self. His fair skin is now pale because of lack of sunlight and lack of food.

He look downwards to see his body and saw to his dismay that he looked like a skeleton that had just been covered by flesh and draped in clothes that at its current state were supposed to be rags. The too big t-shirt which was originally white is now grey and his pants are so torn and frayed, but since these were his only clothes aside from the once blue but now barely recognizable color and another pair of old pants, he still wears the rag-clothes.

His pale but handsome face was framed by an unruly dark hair. On his straight nose rest a broken round eyeglass that is taped, because he doesn't have any money to have it fixed, and it obscure his beautiful green eyes from view. He grimaces when he saw that his once-filled with mirth eyes is now hollow and empty.

Harry's eyes flick upwards and see on his forehead a scar. A scar that forever brands him as a slave.

Every slave in Hogwarts city is branded by their masters in whatever way they like, and when his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gave him to Severus Snape a month ago, his freedom was now shackled by this lightning scar. A mark of ownership of Snape.

The orphaned boy still remembers that night when his Aunt and Uncle brought him here in exchange for their debt. He tried to plead to the two of them to think about giving him as payment but they paid no heed on him. It was then when he realized that they never loved him even a fraction of how much they love their only son, Dudley. And on that night when Snape fully accepted him as a slave, the man took out a silver knife from his drawer on the table of the study room. He could vividly recall the look of horror of his Aunt Petunia when Snape cut through his forehead a lightning shaped wound. He yelled in pain and struggled to get free from his uncle's grasp. And when he was released he was finally branded.

"Potter!"

He snap back from his musings and rushed to the accursed study room of his master at the second floor taking two steps at a time on the stairs.

He knocked first before he opens the door and when he enters a palm made contact with his cheek and he is confronted by icy cold eyes.

"Haven't I told you that when I called you once, you should go quickly to me?" Snape ask in a low but dangerous voice as his dark eyes looked piercingly at Harry's unflinching green ones and holding the boy's hair in a deathlike grip.

The 16 year old boy would love to retort but he knows that if he don't want to spend the day sporting bruises with a headache caused by being hauled and shaken through his hair, not to mention an empty stomach, he should watch his language.

Lowering his eyelashes so as to hide his eyes, he answers "yes, master."

"But you didn't come here when I called you, did you??" the middle-aged man demands.

"I was doing the dishes master and-" but the boy's reasoning was silenced by a hard slap.

'_By the end of the day I'm sure my cheeks are still red'_ he thought ruefully.

"Did I told you to talk back at me, you mudblood?!"

Upon hearing the last word, Harry's blood boiled. Contrast of the pureblood, who are people or families which are highly respected and honored, mudblood was a termed used for people who is considered a trash and a disgrace in the community. He may be a slave but he is definitely not a trash!

"I'm not a mudblood," he answers back coldly, eyes blazing with anger.

Snape's eyes widen dramatically, and then narrowed into tiny slits "Impertinent!" he shouts angrily as he yanks Harry's head and hit it in the door.

The boy could feel blood trickling on his forehead, but before he could even recover, his arms are clutched tightly and he found himself being hauled and hoisted in front of the mirror at the end of the room.

"See that scar?" the man asks through gritted teeth, his left hand is still holding Harry's arm while the other is cupping the chin of the boy to prevent him from looking away from the mirror, "that's the sign of my ownership. You belong to me Potter. So I can say whatever I want to say and do whatever I want to do to you," Snape hissed.

Eyes starting to unfocus, and feeling the pain of the man's grip, Harry nodded, clearly defeated.

Seeing the nod, Snape's mouthed twitched slightly "now that's settled, I want you to be more subdued from now on." Seeing a slight nod again he barks, "is it understood Potter?!" shaking the boy's limp body.

"Yes, master" Harry answer meekly.

"Good, now clean the house thoroughly, my good friend Igor Karkaroff is going to come this evening. I want everything to be perfect," with that said, the master left the room leaving his slave in a half-unconscious state.

**-------------------------------------------------T.B.C. -------------------------------------------------**

_R. and R. please…_


	3. Chapter 2: Danger has Arrived

**Chapter 2: Danger Has Arrived**

A minute after hearing the door closed, Harry stand up dazedly. He feels lightheaded and his eyes are starting to unfocus. He clutches his head and touched warm blood.

_I should never have lost my temper,_ he thought as his head throb painfully.

He walks groggily to the door, narrowly avoiding the table, and head to his room to tend to his wound before following Snape's order.

When he reaches his dingy small room beside the kitchen, he immediately starts looking for anything that would stop his wound from bleeding too much. He searches under the bed, the only furniture in his room, where he kept some things that can be a use for him.

As he rummages his small and battered bag he found an old bandage that he used last week when his master beat him up for breaking the vase on the living room table.

After cleaning his wound and bandaging it, the boy stands up and starts cleaning the house. He makes sure that he cleaned it thoroughly, as Snape instructed. He took a break only to cook lunch for his master then continue cleaning. The boy didn't dare eat until Snape said so, because the last time he was caught eating without an order, he was locked on his room for three whole days without food.

It was almost dinner time when he was done. Harry's stomach was grumbling but he ignores it and started preparing the dinner. When he was about done, Snape entered the room only to tell him to set up the table for two then walked away again.

Half an hour has passed and the doorbell rang, the brunette hurriedly ran to the door and opens it, knowing that it was his master's friend, Karkaroff.

The first thing that he notice when he see the man standing on the doorway is that the man is in his mid-forties and he has a goatee. Second is that the man is obviously rich, based on his clothes and the way he hold himself.

Third, Karkaroff is looking at him with strange gleam on his eyes.

"You're one fine lad, eh?" the man commented as he enters and walks in the living room.

The spectacled-boy inwardly shuddered when the man looked at him from head to toes, licking his lips. Thankfully, his master heard the doorbell too and came down from his study to greet his friend, "Igor! Glad you could come!"

Karkaroff smile and greets back "Ahh, Severus! Good evening."

"Why don't we eat first, my slave had already prepared dinner," Snape invited, walking to the dining room. The man followed suit but not without taking one last long look at the boy.

Harry, with one last terrified glance at the goateed man decides to rest for a while in his room. He doesn't want to see the man again and his room is the best solace. Besides, if his master needs him, all he has to do is to call his name. His bedroom is adjacent to the dining area so he'll be able to hear it just fine.

Lying on his bed, he gazes at his dark room with half-lidded eyes, mind drifting back on his hometown, Privet Drive, where his two best friends are still living peacefully without brands. Harry smile ruefully as he remembered how Ron and Hermione reacted when they found out that he was going to be a slave by the infamous Snape.

They were on Ron's room at that time when he broke the news. They were shocked. No, shocked was an understatement.

Ron just sat at the bed, mouth hanging open with terrified and concerned eyes. Hermione was pacing the room blabbering non-stop about the injustice of it. She even suggested that they ran away, but he shook his head no, he doesn't want his friends to be caught up on his situation too. His uncle had already warned him that if he even made an attempt in running away, his friends and their family will surely suffer. So he just declined his friend's offer saying that he'll be OK and promised them that he'll write or visit.

But sadly, none of his promises are fulfilled. He has no money to send a letter, not that his master would allow him to go out of the house, the reason why he can't visit them.

Suddenly, he feels his eyes beginning to droop. And succumbing to temptation, he falls asleep. And dreams of a place where he can be happy, together with his friends, with no brands, no sneering Snape, no goateed Karkaroff, no horsy-teeth Auntie Petunia, no bellowing Uncle Vernon, and no annoying pig-on-a-wig Dudley. Just a safe place to live by with a full stomach.

Unbeknownst to the dreaming boy, a danger is brewing on a room adjacent to his…

**---------------------------------------------------T.B.C. -----------------------------------------------**

_Next chapter will be really dark…ohh, comments too please…_


	4. Chapter 3: Wicked Plan

**Note: **Thanks for all those who are reading and waiting for this chapter. I really really really wish and hope and I pray that you'll like this, -grins-

**Warning:** it's turning Dark…

**Chapter 3: Wicked Plan**

On the dining room, the two men are deeply engrossed in a serious conversation, drinking wine.

"That slave of yours, that's new isn't it?" seeing a nod, Karkaroff continued, looking apprehensive "has he been broken yet?"

Snape's lips curl slightly as he leaned on his chair, "no, not yet."

The goateed man raises his eyebrows in question.

"He got a spirit, that boy; I'm still waiting for him to finally lose all his hope before I make a move." He explains, twirling the ice on his glass with his forefinger. The truth is he is amused by the boy, even after beating him up almost everyday for a whole month, he can still see the unyielding hope on the eyes of his slave.

"Ohh? And here I am thinking that maybe I can have that mudblood for the night." Karkaroff looks disappointed and he sighs dejectedly.

It was Snape's turn to raise his eyebrows in question, "you like him, huh?"

He was answered by a vigorous nod and a wicked smile. He shakes his head as he sees his friend licking his tongue in a predatory manner.

If only there is no unwritten rule in Hogwarts that the slaves must be broken by their master first, before the others can have a go, he'll surely lunged at the boy without a second thought. But Snape is his friend and he regards him highly, so all he can do is to persuade the man as best as he could. "Come on, Severus, I want that boy." The visitor convinced the man who is looking thoughtful. "Break him now. And I'll go next."

"All right," the man finally gives in, standing up, making a noise of scraping chair in the process. As he heads to the door of the cupboard that serves as the bedroom of his slave, he looks back at his friend and ordered in a low voice "wait for me at the living room, I'll just call you when I'm finished. And whatever noise you hear, don't interrupt."

When the man complied, he saw an odd gleam on Snape's eyes. Feeling excited, he sat at the sofa, eagerly waiting for his turn….

**-----------------------------------------------T.B.C. --------------------------------------------------**

I know that I promised you that it will be dark on this chapter, but I assure you it WILL be dark really on the chapter after this, _-sheepish grin-_

And I know this chapter is short but I just figure that it's best if I stopped here. You know, for the element of surprise? –_Eep!-_

Stop throwing things at me will you?! I promise I'll post the next chap ASAP!

Hey, stop throwing things at me already. _–Runs away and hides for cover-_


	5. Chapter 4: Crime Committed

**Note:** I'm really really sorry for the shortness of the last chapter, _–twiddles thumb-, _So I post this chap ASAP like I promised to, And I do hope that you people will like this chap, you know, to make amends for the last chap, _-sheepish smile- _and for **xXbefuddledXx **I'm sorry if this chap is short too… _–peace sign while waving a white banner-_

**Warning:** a Dark dark Chapter, and violence too, and Uhhmmm… graphical…

**Chapter 4:** Crime Committed.

Snape holds the doorknob and opens the door then close it as quietly as he can. He stands there for a while adjusting his eyes to the dark room, when he can finally see he looks around in distaste at the dingy room but when he sees the boy sleeping he walks silently but purposely to the bed.

He smiles maliciously and sits at the bed feeling his urges go higher every second.

Gazing intently on the body of his slave, he examines the fine contours of the boy. Although Potter has noticeably gone thinner, he still has curves at the perfect places and he has such a nice perfect ass.

Finally, he lets his desire to take control and in a blink of an eye, the man is on the top of the boy kissing him hungrily.

Harry, who is rudely awakened from his dream, is shock to find someone on top of him, and even more shock when he notice that that someone is his master and kissing him ravenously.

His eyes beneath the glasses widen in fear and he tries to dislodge the man but his arms and body are pinned down. He tries shouting too but his screams are droned out by the assaulter's hungry mouth.

The boy jerks his head away, but he can feel Snape's kisses trailing down on his neck, nipping none-too-gently and licking it.

He tries screaming again but his master's cold voice stop him, "shut up Potter, no one will bother to help you. Even if Karkaroff hears you from the living room, he'll do nothing." Then the man shifted slightly so that their bodies are pressed closer. "Besides, Karkaroff is eagerly waiting for his turn to you,"

Harry, shuddering in fear, closes his eyes as the man's legs parted his own and a knee is rubbing his crotch.

"You belong to me so I can do whatever I want to do to you, Potter" the man sneers between his shoulder blades then proceed on kissing him hungrily on the mouth again.

Opening his eyes when he felt his shirt being lift up, with disgust written all over his face, Harry bites the offending lips and push the man away from him with all the strength that he could muster.

Snape rather comically fall down on the floor on his butt. His eyes narrows dangerously but Harry kicks him mightily on the gut and makes a run for it.

He frantically opens the door and almost stumbles on the doorway, and then he sprints towards the backdoor on the kitchen. With hands shaking, he tries to undo the lock but before he can turn the doorknob his hair was pulled from behind.

He is roughly dragged and shoved on the kitchen sink. He winces in pain as his lower back hit the sink and almost cowers in fear when he saw the murderous glint on Snape's eyes. Almost, because he won't give up without a fight.

"How dare you fight back at me, you mudblood?!" the man snarls, advancing threateningly.

But before he could react, the man lunges at him again, touching his most sensitive parts while his hips are straddled by the man's knees.

Tears streaming on his eyes the youth gropes blindly behind him for anything that he could use for defense. When his left hound touch the handle of a knife on a wooden knives rack he pulls it and as if his hands has a mind of its own, he stabbed the assaulter on his stomach.

Snape's eyes bulge in shock and pain, he instinctively puts a hand on his stomach, and he touched warm blood. Lowering his eyes down, sure enough, there's a wound on his stomach, plain for him, to see and it's oozing with blood. His gaze lingers upwards and he sees the object that has caused him pain, his hand jolted towards it as he tries to get hold of the knife.

The boy, though scared out of his wits, looks at the scrunched face of the man who made his life hell with eyes full of contempt and disgust. And before he knew it he stabs the man again. And again. And again.

When suddenly a horrified scream stop him, "what did you do to him, you mudblood?!" there on the door of the kitchen stood a figure who saw him butchering Snape.

The goateed man heard the commotion on the kitchen and despite his friend's orders; he decides to see what is happening. And to his horror, he saw his friend being stabbed to death by the slave.

Harry, throwing a terrified glance at the shocked Karkaroff, makes a hasty decision. With a disheveled mind, he drops the knife and run away through the backdoor towards the darkness of the night…

**----------------------------------------------------T.B.C. ---------------------------------------------**

_-EEP!-_

Hey stop throwing things at me, will you?? I told you it was short and there's violence in it.

–_Waves the crumpled white banner-_

And I'm sorry to all Severus fans for uhhhmmm, butchering?? him to death….

_-Ducks when a chair was thrown- _

Hey I said I was sorry!!!!!!!!


	6. Chapter 5: Chased Mudblood

**Note:** thanks for all those people who spend time to make a review on this fic, it really inspires me, -_grins_-, this is all for you guys…

**Warning: **a tiring chapter _–pant, pant-_

**Chapter 5: Chased Mudblood**

It was almost midnight. Some part of the city is eerily quiet and empty aside from the cars that occasionally pass by. The streets on the subdivisions are dark except for street lamps that shone on some parts of the roads.

And on one particular dark street, the moonbeams that shone are the only guide for a figure dressed in rags and looking like he is in the verge of losing his mind.

-----

Harry is running, towards where, he doesn't know. All he knows is that he has to be someplace where no one can find him. He's sure that Karkaroff had already informed the police about the crime and they are going to arrest him. But he didn't want to be jailed!

He needs to find a place where he can hide but he knew that was impossible. He doesn't know anyone in Hogwarts and he knows that going back to privet Drive is not an option. If his aunt and uncle find out that he killed his master they will surely surrender him to police. They don't want to go against the law. If he hides in Ron's house, the Weasley's might be endangered, and he doesn't want that. He loves the Weasley's because they are the only people who treat him as a person not a trash so he wouldn't do anything that might hurt them. Same goes for Hermione and her family.

Panting heavily, he paused to take a breath. He looks around him and noticed that he is in a park. His stomach growled, and he clutched it, trying to ease out his hunger. He trudges to the bench nearby and sit there. Thinking all the things that happened, while rubbing his arms to warm himself up.

Due to exhaustion and hunger, he feels himself getting sleepy. He slowly slid on the bench and falls into a dreamless sleep when a voice wakes him up.

"Gerr'off my property punk!"

Harry sleepily opened his eyes and sees a man with messy long hair, dressed in dirty clothes. He inwardly shivers when the man glares at him at spit out "tha's my bed, you punk! Ca' you see me name onn'it?"

He looks to the spot where the man is pointing and sees a "Property of Mundungus Fletcher." The boy nods and stands up. He walks out of the park again but he stops when he see a police patrolling on the park.

"Oi, Mundungus, I told you that you can't sleep there." The police scold the man who is sprawled on the bench.

"Shaddup Barty, I can sleep where'ver I like," Mundungus growls baring his yellow teeth, his eyes closed the whole time.

"Crouch, have you heard the news?" a panting police came into view wearing an apprehensive face.

"What is it, Bode?" Barty asks with an eyebrow up, completely forgetting the snoring Mundungus.

"Snape has been murdered." Bode announce.

Harry's eyes widen, '_they already knew!_' he quickly hides in a tree and listen intently at their conversation.

"Severus Snape, the treacherous man?" Barty asks again, his voice hints that he doesn't care whether the news is true or not.

"Yes. He was killed by his slave." Bode answers.

"Is the slave captured?"

"No," he answers, shaking his head calmly, "but Igor Karkaroff, he's the one who witnessed the crime, said that the slave is a boy, no more than 16, has black hair and green eyes but the most noticeable trait is a lightning scar on the boy's forehead." Bode informs the latter.

Harry's heart is pounding so hard. Taking a step back, his foot accidentally steps on a twig causing noise to startle the two guards and look at his direction.

"Hey you, what are you doing here at this time of the night?" the man called Bode asked.

"N-nothing! I-i was just.. Just walking around.." he stutters nervously. He gulps when the two approached him silently and closes his eyes when the blinding light of flashlight is shone on his face.

"You should go home now; minors like you should not be out in the streets at this time. It's very dangerous," the police rebuked.

He nods and walks away as calmly as he could when the other police voice's halted him.

"Wait! What's that on your clothes?"

He looks down on his dirty clothes and saw to his horror splotches of blood. Shaking visibly now he said "it's n-nothing, j-just dirt."

Barty Crouch seems dubious of his answer and continued staring at his shirt, and then his eyes flicker upwards on his face and widens slightly when he saw something. "Is that a scar on your forehead?" the man asked taking a step closer.

Harry, knowing that the police had already identified him as the killer, immediately speeds off towards the opposite direction, Diagon alley, the heart of the city.

He runs blindly because tears have started to fill his eyes. He is so scared!

The teen trips into a stone and fall headfirst into the pavement. He hisses in pain when his head injury started throbbing again.

Slowly he gets up adjusted his askew glasses, and is about to run again when he sees a figure on the dark, leaning languidly on the wall and looking at him.

Unable to control himself he asked in a pleading voice, "Help me please…"

But the figure just looks at him lazily and drawled sneeringly "why would I help a mudblood like you?"

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he watch as the figure came into light. He is a blond young man and is about the same age and height as him. Harry's breathing hitch on his throat when he saw that he has a pale pointed but handsome face and is looking at him with those mesmerizing grey eyes.

Harry's inspection of the handsome youth stop when from the corner of his eyes he notice that the police are near and had already seen him. Fear clouds his eyes, and before the teen in front of him knew what is happening he ran into the dark alley beside the wall.

But luck is not on his side, for he painstakingly realized that the alley is blocked by a 12 foot wall. It is a dead end.

When he hears the footsteps behind him he just closes his eyes in defeat.

"Freeze, this is the police," Bode cried.

When his hands are being cuffed by a cold metal, he made no attempt in struggling. What for? He already knows he can never escape.

The police continue talking the formalities and rights of a criminal like him, but he isn't listening. All he knows is that when he is being lead from the alley to the police car, his life is doomed.

The boy, filled with trepidation of being captured, doesn't notice that the young man whom he'd asked for helped is still standing there and watching him with thoughtful eyes…

**-----------------------------------T.B.C. -----------------------------------**

_R. and R. please…_


	7. Chapter 6: Jailed Murderer

**Note:** sorry for the long wait. I've been busy with my Naruto fics. _–Scratches head sheepishly-_

**Warning:** Short, stupid, and crappy

**Jailed Murderer**

Harry was not afraid, nor sad that he was captured last night. He just felt… nothing…

He's just sitting there on a bed alone at the dark corner of the stinking cell staring at nothing. His eyes were blank, body numb.

It's already evening and the only light that he had is on the corridors of the cell, though he didn't care, opting to sit on the dark. The air was chilly and he felt cold but he didn't make any move in warming himself. He felt tired but he can't sleep even though he didn't sleep even a wink last night. His stomach was grumbling too, though not that bad because some police decided to have some fun and force-fed him their food scraps at lunchtime.

It was horrible, the way they shove on his mouth the foods, it choked him but they still continued to do it. They didn't stop until he nearly died of suffocation. Grumbling that he is no fun; they beat him up then throw him on his cell again.

When he was alone, he sat at the far corner of the room and just stared at nothing thinking back of what happened last night.

When he was captured he was brought to the jail and pushed in a cell isolated from the other jailed. Then Cornelius Fudge, the chief of police, ordered him to be whipped in front of a furious looking Karkaroff.

He still vividly recalled the vicious triumph on the goateed man's face every time the whip made contact on his skin and he cried out in pain.

He unconsciously rubbed the sore spots caused by the whipping on his arms, humming softly to himself, eyes still eerily blank.

………….

Hmmmhumm

………….

Hmhummhummmhmmmhummm

…..……..

Hmmmhumm

………….

Hmhmhmhmhmhummmmmhumm

……..---

"Harry? Harry!"

Harry turns his head to see to his surprise two familiar people, crouching low on the corridors and hands on the railings.

"Ron? Hermione?" he whispered disbelievingly, walking slowly to the figures.

"Harry, mate, how are you?" Ron, a teen with bright red hair and freckly face, asked worriedly.

"Fine, I'm still breathing ain't I?" he answered trying to joke. Then looked happily at his two friends. The three of them are of the same age, though their appearance differs. Ron, a teen with bright red hair and freckly face is very tall for his age while Hermione is a girl with very bushy hair.

But his attempt to lighten the wood failed as his two bestfriends still looked at him worriedly. He smiled, albeit a little weakly just to show them that he is OK.

They nodded, seemingly convinced. But they still had a concerned look at the state of Harry, because by the looks of it, he was tortured, though they all knew that they couldn't do anything about it. Hogwarts police have a reputation of torturing all criminals that they captured and no one had ever dared to accuse them of Police Brutality because they will suffer greatly.

"How did you know I was here? And how did you get in here? I thought I was not supposed to have a visitor," he asked curiously, while looking apprehensively at the corridor that leads to the door of the reception area. If they are found, all of them will be in trouble.

"Ron's Dad told us that you're here." Hermione answered.

The freckled red teen's father worked in the government office in Hogwarts so naturally he'll know crimes like his with one of the renowned man of the city. And because he knew that Ron and Harry are friends, he'll naturally tell it to his son and Hermione.

"As for how did we get here, we snuck up," Ron clipped smugly.

"And whatever happened is also in the news," Hermione added, giving Harry the newspaper that she has been holding.

Harry looked at the Hogwarts Academe, the city's local journal, and read it. There on the front page, written in big bold letters is the headline

**SLAVE BUTCHERED HIS MASTER**

There's a black and white picture too of the bloody corpse of Snape being hauled by the police out of the crime scene. Written below the picture is the story.

_Severus Snape, a renowned and prominent man has been murdered last night by his slave, Harry Potter, age 17. The slave, according to Igor Karkaroff, a businessman who witnessed the scene, is a deranged and lunatic-_

Harry's eyes widened in shock and fury on what he read. "Deranged and lunatic?! What the hell?? He tried to rape me!" he shouted, clearly enraged.

"He... tried to.. rape you?" Ron asked slowly, aghast.

"Yes, that's why I killed him," he stated blankly.

Both gasped at the answer and silence reigned as the meaning sank in.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione whimpered sadly.

"It's Ok, Hermione, I never regretted that I killed him for my dignity," the jailed teen said calmly and his eyes still had that dead look that shocked his friends.

"Listen Harry, you need to get out of here," the brunette teen said desperately.

He laughed mirthlessly, "I can't Hermione," he refused, shaking his head, "if they caught me escaping, they'll gonna torture me again,"

"But Harry, if you don't they will salvage you! When we are sneaking up here we passed by Fudge office and we heard Karkaroff's paying him to kill you." Ron explained, his fear for his friend's life evident on his wide eyes.

_Oh my god, I'm really going to die…_ Harry thought bitterly as chills starting to engulf him, making his chest thump painfully.

"I've got a plan Har-"

"Someone's coming!" Ron cut-off Hermione, panicking.

Sure enough, sounds of footsteps coming are heard on the quiet corridor.

"We'll be back," Hermione whispered. Then she and Ron quickly run opposite the way the sound is coming from.

Harry hurriedly scampered to his bed. Sweating furiously due to nervousness.

"Hey, Potter," a massive man called, smirking menacingly showing broken teeth. He wore blue uniform that is fading and has a nametag of Macnair. On his belt is a pistol and on his hand is the police bat. He unlatched the lock on the rails and opened it and motioned the teen to follow him out of the cell and towards the office of the chief.

He complied and walked beside the police. But he felt dread crept up on him and tears welled on his eyes when the jailguard leaned on him and whispered on a sickeningly sweet voice, "You'll gonna die,"

The two shadows looked at their friend's retreating figure and hope against hope, that somehow, some miracle would happen and save Harry.

**--------------------------------------T.B.C.----------------------------------------**

Haha! Harry's going to die! –_Evil laughter-_

_Harry fans squints their eyes and gave murderous looks on the author _

_-Gulps nervously-_ or not… hehe..

Anywei.. Wait for the next chapter ne? And leave comments people! _–Waves-_


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